


Hoisted By His Own Leotard

by orphan_account



Category: One Piece
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15386871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nami catches Sanji having a little private personal time and enjoys herself watching.





	Hoisted By His Own Leotard

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the One Piece Fanforall: https://op-fanforall2.livejournal.com/1363.html?thread=840275#t840275
> 
> I also wrote this long before Sanji had the full goatee, so imagine him without that.

Sanji was her willing slave and Nami knew it (and took advantage of it), but he was the sort of willing slave that took advantage of every single loophole in his tightly wound net of commands. So even if you ordered him, “Sanji, don't you dare look through that hole to the washroom to spy on me and Robin again” he would just plug up that hole, carve a second one to look through and insist he'd kept up his oath as a knight of all women and especially Nami-swaaan♡♡♡

So there was really nothing for it but to check for herself. And sure enough, in the storage room by the kitchen Nami found a suspiciously shaped knot in the wood much like the one that had been in the room with the fish tank, the kind that you could wiggle out with your fingers. Nami sighed and pried the knot out before peering through to the other side to confirm that the other side was indeed the bathroom. The hole was low enough that Nami had to kneel to put her eye to it, just below waist-level for anyone standing in the bathroom, right to the left of the full-length mirror that was beside the washbasin.

Just as she was about to pull her head back and go to find Usopp and demand he plug this up, none other than Sanji himself walked into the bathroom. He had brought a bag with him into the bathroom and locked the door firmly behind him, double-checking that it was locked by rattling the handle a few times before settling his bag on the floor.

While Nami's better conscience was telling her that continuing to peep would make her just as bad as Sanji, the more dominant part of her mind was telling her that peeping on him in return was just desserts for that shameless pervert. Her moral dilemma lasted all of ten seconds. Oh, she was going to enjoy _this_.

Sanji started to undress, folding his suit up carefully and putting his clothes on top of the towel rack. Nami wasn't going to admit it when Sanji was around (no need to encourage him), but she thought he actually had a pretty nice body – muscular, lithe, and hella flexible. Nami could appreciate that kind of manflesh. Too bad his personality was a complete dud.

Sanji stripped bare of even his underwear before kneeling down to rummage in the bag he'd brought – and the very first thing he pulled out was a pair of silky womens' panties.

Nami was hit with a brief moment of flying rage as she mistook them for one of her own – but wait, no, the lace on those matched none of hers. And she knew for a fact that they weren't Robin's either – this was a thong, and all of Robin's thongs were black. This little number was somewhere between pink and red and loving it, and Sanji let out a sigh as he slipped it on, his cheeks nearly as pink as the tiny little thing that was soon hugging his package.

Sanji paused for a moment to admire himself in the mirror before fishing in the bag again to pull out what could only be a matching bra. Nami stared slack-jawed as he pulled it on, clipping it in front before twisting it around back with a skill Nami had previously thought no male could possess. Did Sanji have... experience in this?!

The next item took Nami's breath away – a full-length, blood-red evening dress, and it fit Sanji like a glove as he slid into it, zipping it up the back all by himself. The dress was slit all the way up one leg and the neckline was a deep scoop that exposed what a grand lack of cleavage Sanji had. Sanji pulled out a pair of heels so high they made Nami's ankles ache in sympathy before settling a luscious blonde wig on his head and putting the finishing touches on: a pair of dangling hoop earrings and expertly applied makeup.

Sanji posed in front of the mirror and admired himself. Now that she was confronted with the brazen truth, Nami had to admit that Sanji had seemed.... different after coming back from Kamabakka Island. More appreciative of new outfits she bought. Giving her clothing suggestions. Commenting on her makeup. Nami had taken it as his usual nonsense, but given the current situation she was beginning to view it all in a _whole new light_.

Nami's spinning mind was brought down to earth when she noticed Sanji's poses getting progressively more provocative. A finger in his mouth, a hand dipping down the front of his dress. Eventually he was flat-out just running his hands over his body while staring at his reflection in the mirror – and if Nami's eyes weren't deceiving her that tent in the front of his dress was a burgeoning hard-on. His hands hadn't even been anywhere near his crotch and he'd gotten himself this excited?

Sanji reached back to unzip the back of the dress just a bit, enough for one short sleeve to slide down his shoulder. Sanji licked one finger – slow, taking his sweet time, before trailing the wet finger down to play with one nipple, rubbing tight circles under the fabric. The bulge at his crotch rose – he was fully erect now, and he hadn't even touched himself once.

Nami was struck speechless. Not only was this the last thing she'd ever expect to see Sanji do... she couldn't believe he was making it so damn _hot._ Sanji could take all the time he wanted buttering himself up, but Nami couldn't wait – she slid one hand under her skirt and into her panties, licking the fingers of the other before sliding it up be back of her shirt to undo her bra. She took one breast in her hand and mimicked the motions Sanji was making over her own nipple, the wetness on her nipple lending a smoothness to her rubs.

Sanji finally moved his hand down to his crotch, bunching the fabric of his dress up over his cock and thrusting into his hand through the curtain of the dress. From her peephole Nami could hear Sanji panting as he rubbed the cloth against his erection, hips moving as if he were fucking an invisible hole.

Sanji's other hand was fucking his mouth with his fingers, there was no other way to describe it. He kept at it for too many strokes to count before finally, _finally_ brushing aside the dress with his dry hand to reveal his erection pressing out of the thong, red and weeping precome at the tip. His other hand, wet with spit, slid down the length of his cock from tip to base before shoving past it to press into Sanji's asshole.

Nami smothered a _meep_ as Sanji's face contorted in pleasure, but his eyes never closed, his gaze fixed on his own image in the mirror in front of him, the narcissistic twit. Nami would have come up with more insults if the intensity in his gaze didn't turn her on so much, and she rubbed faster against her clit as Sanji's fingers pressed deeper into his ass. Sanji let out a barely audible sigh before he began pumping his dick directly while fucking himself with his other hand, his breaths already gone shallow and fast.

Sanji dropped to his knees but his motions didn't stop, one hand working his cocks in twisting pumps while precome leaked down into his hand as his other hand worked three fingers as deep as they would go. He clenched his teeth when he came to prevent himself from crying out, come splattering white onto his red dress as his body shook with tremors of pleasure.

Nami wasn't so discreet when she came after that, her cry making Sanji's neck snap around with an expression halfway between rage, terror, and the utmost humiliation on his face. He was staring straight at the hole he himself had drilled in utter horror.

“Sanji-kun,” Nami panted from the other side of the hole. “Next time you want to dress up, invite me too, okay?”

Sanji's mortification melted into an expression of the utmost bliss – albeit rather embarrassed bliss. “Yes! Nami-swaaaan♡♡♡

 


End file.
